


The 'after' in 'Happily Ever After'

by trickztr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickztr/pseuds/trickztr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fragments of the life Team Free Will built for themselves after they closed the gates of Hell.</p><p>After a lifetime of blood, violence and instability, who would’ve known that a boring, normal life could be so exhilarating?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 'after' in 'Happily Ever After'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewhalesaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhalesaid/gifts).



> Dearest thewhalesaid, I really hope you like this story. I tried to include all the stuff you said you liked - I had a special kind of fun writing in Cas’ tattoo - and I really hope you like tooth-rotting domesticity. ;) 
> 
> Special thanks to @CherryPudding and @_nathy for the beta and constant cheerleading.

How Dean and Castiel came to be together was actually very boring and anti-climactic.

After everything they’d been through together and all the battles they’d fought for and against each other, in the end, all it took was Sam leaving for college after they’d closed the gates of Hell and Dean realizing how lonely life was once you didn’t have to kill things for a living.

He sold most of his weapons and artifacts, which turned out to return quite the profit. He sent Sam half the money and, with part of his share, bought a small, simple house. With a white picket fence, though. He made sure of that.

The auto-shop in town needed a new mechanic and the owner didn’t ask a lot of questions. Convenient.

\--

He’d taken to praying to Castiel three times a week, asking him to come over for a beer or five. Then the prayers became daily. A few weeks later, Dean just casually said. “Why bother leaving, anyway? You got a better place to go, or something?”

The corners of Castiel’s lips curled discreetly up. “No.”

“I mean. I know this isn’t exactly _Heaven_ , but--”

“It’s better, actually.” Castiel had said, earnestly. “When I’m not here, I wish I was.”

Dean had smiled then. Squeezed Castiel’s hand and taken a swig of his beer.

****

 

* * *

They fell into bed together, eventually. Naturally. A bit awkward at first, like most first-times often are, but it’d felt right. As if not only had that been the next logical step to their arrangement, but also something they should’ve been doing all along.

There were no whispered _I love you'_ s or any other obvious declarations of affection. There was only the easiest, most sincere and satisfied smile on Dean’s lips as he basked in the joys of afterglow, holding onto his angel.

 _His_.

\--

Sam approved of that, of course. Even if he’d teased them about how _‘it was about damn time!’,_ he'd made it clear he was happy for them. That he’d been rooting for them all along.

It’d made Dean love his brother with more intensity than he ever thought possible. That Sam could be so genuinely happy for his brother’s own happiness, without bitterness or a hint of jealousy to his tone - like Dean knew would feature in his own voice, had their roles been reversed -, was almost a little too overwhelming.

 

 

* * *

****

Not much changed for a long time after that. Dean would wake up every morning. Kiss Castiel on his way out. Go to work. Come back home. Have dinner. Some nights they'd have the best sex Dean had ever had, some nights they’d just fall right to sleep.

For once in his entire existence, Dean had a normal, boring life, and God knew how happy he was for that. It felt like everything had fallen into piece and nothing was missing.

Except.

“I want a child.” Castiel had said on the morning of what they never called their anniversary. He’d kissed Dean’s knuckles as they held hands, facing each other.

Dean had stared at Castiel in mild panic. “Come again?”

“A child.” Castiel repeated. “A human child.” He’d clarified.

“Oh, a human one? Good, I was worried there, for a second.” Dean had remarked, sarcastically. “Cas, do you even know how much of a handful kids are?”

“I watched humanity for millennia, Dean.” Castiel replied, patiently. “I have a working knowledge on how parenting works.”

“Well, _watching_ is a hell of a lot different than actually _doing_ it.”

Castiel lowered his eyes for a moment, but then inched closer, touched Dean’s face. “What holds you back, fear of becoming a parent like your own father was, or has old age caught up with you already?”

Dean had swung his legs out of the bed and stormed off, cursing Castiel colorfully.

\--

They hadn’t talked about it for days, until Dean finally brought it up, over dinner.

“Where would you even find a kid, to begin with?” He’d grumbled, over a mouthful of steak. “In case you haven’t noticed, none of us has a uterus.”

“From what I understand,” Castiel had answered calmly, “there are several agencies that exist solely to solve that problem.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Captain Smartass.” He took a swig of his beer. “Wouldn’t be as easy for us, though. What with being two unmarried dudes, making thirty-grand a year.”

Castiel had smiled wickedly, cutting his own steak. “Well, Dean. _Have a little faith_.”

\--

They get to bring little Gracie home over two years after that argument. Whatever strings Castiel was pulling were damn good, because the baby the agency had got them even actually looked a little like them: tiny little freckles sprinkled all across her cheeks and nose and bright blue eyes.

The second Dean got to hold her he never wished to let go again.

 

* * *

They never exchanged rings or had a ceremony. Instead, they’d agreed on getting tattoos.

It wasn’t anything planned or overly sappy like that. Dean had just mentioned one night, while he tried to get Grace to sleep, that he felt like getting inked again. Something a little less ominous than the anti-possession symbol. Maybe something a little more significant, like a few verses of _Hey, Jude_ , to honor his mother.

“Sounds like a great idea.” Castiel had smiled. “I’d like to come along.”

“Awwwn!” Dean had mocked. “Thanks, baby, but I don’t really need you to hold my hand through it.”

“No, I mean I’d like to get one too.”

Dean had frowned. “You? Getting inked?” He’d snorted. “Doesn’t sound much like you.”

“On the contrary. When I was soldier, I used to bear several war symbols on my true form.” He’d informed Dean. “You should’ve seen the designs on my wings. It’d made several enemies quiver in fear.”

Dean had winked at him. “Sounds hot.”

Castiel had giggled. “Well, I suppose they were. Never got me any sex, though.”

Grace kept making adorable gurgling sounds and refusing to sleep because she was obviously an evil creature of the night Dean would never have the courage to slay. He’d rocked her more gently, humming softly.

“It’s gonna hurt like bitch.” Dean had said, a few minutes later. “Just so you know.”

“Pain never scared me, Dean.”

\--

In the end, Dean had gotten the first two verses of the song tattooed on the inside of his right wrist. A simple design that took less than forty minutes to get done.

Castiel, however, went big and majestic. He’d gotten a pair of greying-to-black classic wings drawn all across his back and stopping at the top of his buttocks. They were beautiful and, once they’d healed, irresistible to Dean. He just couldn’t help trailing the ink with his tongue and lips whenever they had sex.

(Which, sadly, wasn’t as often anymore. Castiel may not need sleep, but Dean did and Grace was one hyperactive child. Apparently, kids really _were_ a handful).

 

 

* * *

Sam graduated around Grace’s second birthday.

He’d gotten himself a nice girl and they’d arranged to get married that summer. It was a small ceremony, but a lot of his classmates showed up. Castiel had blessed them in Enochian and newly Mrs. Winchester had looked slightly worried about that unusual welcoming into the family, but Sam had whispered something in her ear and she’d smiled and thanked them profusely.

Dean never knew exactly what Sam had told her, but she’d spent a large portion of that evening holding Castiel’s hand in both of hers and enthusiastically telling him how honored she was to have met him and how much she appreciated his blessing and how she hoped she and Sam could be as perfect a family Castiel’s little own.

Dean liked her. She was beautiful - long red hair that fell behind her back in soft waves, full lips and expressive brown eyes - and seemed to adore his little brother. Before they left, Dean had handed a sleeping Grace over to Castiel and hugged his new sister-in-law one more time.

“Take good care of him.” He’d whispered in her ear. “That kid deserves nothing less than the perfect love.”

She’d held him tight and replied. “I know.”

 

* * *

Sam’s first child was born, ironically, on the anniversary of their mother’s death. No one ever mentioned the irony, but Dean had to hold back a few tears when his brother had told him, over the phone, that his nephew’s name was Robert Dean Winchester.

“Bobby Dean?” He’d chuckled, wetly, wiping a stubborn tear away. “Why do you hate your kid already?”

Sam snorted. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.” He’d replied, affectionately.  

 

* * *

“Daddy!” Grace had exclaimed one morning, jumping to his bed.

“Nhhhng.” Dean groaned, eloquently.

“Daddy. Papa said we could get a dog if you said yes.” She'd elaborated, supporting half her little weight on his back. (Sleeping on his stomach, one hand beneath a pillow, was a habit he never managed to kick). “I’m gonna go tell him you said okay.”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up, kiddo.” He rubbed the sleep off his eyes. “What’s that about a dog?”

She sighed dramatically. “I want a dog. A big, hairy dog and I’m gonna call him Max, like the Grinch did, because the Grinch is smart and he knows that dogs shouldn’t have stupid names, and me and Max are gonna go on big adventures and he’s gonna be my best friend forever.”

Dean stared at her. “Wow, you really thought it through, huh?”

“Well, duh.” She slumped beside him on the bed. “Daddy, I _need_ that dog. I can’t go on adventures alone!”

Dean tried not to grin. His daughter was such a drama queen. “But who’s gonna take care of him, huh? Pets are a huge responsibility.”

“Well, _me_.” She jumped on the bed again.

“Honey, you still need us to check for monsters under your bed.” He grabbed her by her midriff, prompting an amused yelp from the five-year old. “How are you gonna go on adventures?”

“That’s why I need the dog!”

“Why don’t we start with something smaller? Don’t you wanna a fish, or something?”

“No, I want a dog! A big one!”

Castiel walked into the bedroom, right at that moment, holding a tray with a stack of pancakes, a piece of pie and a jar of orange juice.

“You son of a bitch.” Dean accused him, amused. “Way to dodge that bullet, huh?”

Castiel bit back a smile. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Grace continued describing the fabulous adventures she and Max would go on together, a half-chewed pancake neglected and forgotten, pressed between her little fingers.

“Tell you what,” Dean had said, interrupting Grace’s enthusiastic monologue. “If you’re a good girl, _maybe_ for Christmas. Deal?”

Her eyes went comically wide, a face-splitting grin spreading over her lips and she threw herself on him, circling his neck with her skinny little arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

“Okay, you got your wish, now eat your breakfast.” Castiel had ordered her. She rolled her eyes, sighed overly-dramatically but took another bite of her food.

Dean grinned at Cas and leaned in for a kiss. He never got tired of that. The feel of Cas’ firm lips against his own. Trading chaste kisses over breakfast was his favorite thing in the whole world - coming close, perhaps, to the sound of their daughter’s excited laugh - and if Heaven were ever to grant him entrance again, he hoped this was the memory he got re-live, for all eternity.


End file.
